


out of the blue

by livingtheobsessedlife



Category: Captain Marvel (2019), Marvel
Genre: Drunk Texting, F/M, Getting Back Together, Space girlfriend, nasa is involved, relationships are hard for superheroes, space makes things problematic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-12-26 07:27:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18278585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livingtheobsessedlife/pseuds/livingtheobsessedlife
Summary: Rhodey waits five minutes and sends back a three-word text. He can’t help it. Carol's his soft spot, even if she’s disappeared from him.





	out of the blue

**Author's Note:**

> this is shorter than I usually write but it was real fun to get the carolrhodey writing juices flowing
> 
> the context is that they broke up a while ago because she had to leave for work but she refused to tell him where she was going... he finds out, and things get real awkward.

She texts him one day, even though it’s been over a year since they’ve talked. It’s bad. The way her tone comes off through the texts, Rhodey knows she’s probably drunk off her ass somewhere, nursing a bottle of strong liquor like a baby while she pets that damn cat and giggles like a maniac. He knows how bad of an idea it would be to respond. Disaster-level, heart-wrenching, kill-him-twice-over bad idea.

He waits five minutes and sends back a three-word text. He can’t help it. She’s his soft spot, even if she’s disappeared.

_What’s up, carol?_

She texts back immediately. The uninhibited speediness hits him almost like a twisted knife right in the spot it hurts him the most.

_Miss you._

Oh, god. Here it comes.

_No you don’t._

_Do too!_

They text for hours. Rhodey’s in his bed at the compound, buried under a heavy comforter, the soft light beside his bed stealing a respite from the overworked blue light that unceremoniously sheds itself across his room that night. He has no idea where she’s texting him from. It’s nearing dawn when he finally gets up the courage to ask.

_Where’d you run off to, Carol? Where is it that you’re texting me from?_

For the first time all night, she doesn’t respond immediately. Rhodey wonders if she’s sobering up or if she really ran away from him like that. Either way hurts. The grey bubbles on his phone are quiet for an uncomfortably long time.

He tries something else, _I miss you._

There’s another completely expected beat of nothing, and Rhodey’s hope dwindles, his hand over the power button. His phone is dark and now he just feels like an idiot who ruined a good thing without knowing how yet again. Just like the same day she left.

Then there’s a soft vibration, and Rhodey’s glad he’s alone because nobody is in his room to witness the desperate way he dives for his phone.

_Can’t tell you, babe. You know that. I’m sorry._

He stares at the word babe for an unacceptably long time.

Then she adds, almost like a taunt or a promise or something even more painful, _I miss you too._

The sun peeks out from between the blinds, and Rhodey knows it’s time to go to sleep. His heart hurts and his eyes feel heavy.

_Good night, Carol._

He doesn’t pick up his phone again when she responds, the blue light of the notification flooding his bedside table. He’s already asleep. Dawn comes quickly after that, and Rhodey continues to doze, blissfully dead to the world.

When he wakes up, there aren’t any more texts, and Rhodey hates that he’s actually disappointed.

He's just about to get out of bed with a heavy heart when his phone starts to ring. He doesn't recognize the caller ID. 

When he picks up his phone and a receptionist tells him, “Please hold for NASA security division,” Rhodey automatically assumes that oh, Tony’s causing trouble again. Great. Fantastic. Figures. 

His head falls back heavily onto his pillow and he sighs. Pepper was supposed to have a handle on him, though the veritable question lies in whether a single person could ever truly have a handle on Tony Stark. Rhodey listens to NASA’s incessant hold music and decides that no, Tony Stark has never been one easily controlled. Rhodey should’ve figured that.

Then the music stops and a NASA big wig behind a desk somewhere is saying, “Is this Colonel Rhodes?”

“Yes, it is.”

“We have a report here that you received a number of messages coming from Mission Ship D16, and it is policy for Security Division to be read in on these messages.”

Rhodey rubs a hand over his face. He’s too tired for this shit, really, “Excuse me?” He says, because what else can he do.

“We need a physical or oral transcript of your interactions with those aboard the Mission Ship, sir. Either will do.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,”‘ Rhodey says, as blunt as can be as he sits up in his bed and leans against his knees. He isn’t as good at all nighters as he used to be, that’s for sure, “I’ve never heard of a Mission Ship D16, and I didn’t receive any messages last night.”

The voice on the other end of the line is silent for several long moments, and a vague flipping of papers can be heard through the device, “No,” He says, confident and tired, “We have a distinct record of transmission between your phone and the exact location of the ship in orbit for several hours last night. We need access to those transmissions, sir.”

Last night. Carol. Oh.

So maybe everything isn’t about Tony after all.

“Did you say location in orbit?”

“Yes, sir, Mission Ship D16 is an aerospace vehicle.”

Oh.

_Oh._

“I did receive some messages last night now that I think about it,” Rhodey says, feeling much more awake now that his mind is absolutely reeling, “They were from Lieutenant Danvers.”

“Yes,” The engineer says. He’s sounding increasingly tired, “Lieutenant Danvers is in charge of the craft. Can we have the transcript of the messages now?”

“I’ll- I’ll fax it over later,” Rhodey tells him, stammers, “Over and out,” Then hangs up abruptly on the NASA tech.

He opens up Carol’s contact information and just stares at it. Space. She was in space. Not even on the planet. She left him and didn’t tell him where she was because she was in space and it was confidential. Rhodey can barely fathom how this is his life. He texts Carol.

_So you’re in space._

He watches the gray bubble fill with a blinking ellipses as she hesitates. It’s almost comical, the idea of Carol hesitating, being thrown off guard. Rhodey’s used to it himself, his best friend and his ex-girlfriend are both superheroes, surprise is practically a personality trait of his at this point, but Carol fights aliens for a living, not much surprises her.

 _What makes you say that?_ She replies, neither confirming nor denying. It almost makes Rhodey laugh aloud. Almost. There’s this heavy feeling in his stomach of a puzzle clicking in place that keeps the noise from coming out into his mostly dark bedroom though.

_Got an enlightening call from NASA this morning._

_Shit._

_Yeah._

_So you know?_

_If you’re asking if I know that you’re currently in space then yes I know_ , Rhodey hesitates, then adds, _Why didn’t you tell me?_

_You weren’t high enough security clearance, Rhodey. I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t._

_Full bird colonel and my clearance still isn’t high enough to know where my ex-girlfriend works why am I still surprised by things like this_

He can still imagine the lilt of her laugh perfectly.

 _I meant it when I said I miss you_ , Carol admits suddenly, and it’s like she brandishes her knife again, _Now that you’re read in do you want to come visit?_

He laughs aloud, finally.

_In space?_

_Yeah, why not._

God, he missed her, too.

 _Yeah_ , He finally responds, _I’d like that, as long as NASA doesn’t mind_

_fuck_

_What?_

_I forgot about nasa, how did they feel about our texts last night?_

Rhodey laughs aloud again, he can’t help it. He’s got this irritatingly accurate image in his head of Carol as a freight train, crashing her way through troughs of red tape.

_I’m sure they’ll have a good laugh when they see them_

_Shit._

That’s what you get, Danvers, for texting me while drunk

Shut up, Rhodes, she tells him, and it almost feels like she’s on the planet, like she never even left, like she somehow isn’t impossibly far away.

Rhodey finally gets out of bed, stretches languorously and blinks away some of the stray exhaustion. He wonders distantly as he pads toward his laptop and coffee machine, whether or not text rates are extra going to space.

NASA, as it turns out, does not find their exchanges very amusing. Carol gets a very strongly worded letter from some straightlaced agency director about the immorality of drinking while on what is technical government property and Rhodey gets a very lovely selfie of his girl posing with a bottle of vodka and the letter printed out on cardstock. He can see the metal walls of the spaceship in the background and it’s weirdly normal for him to see.

It doesn’t matter what NASA thinks about them, though, because two days later, a giant metal ship makes traction on Rhodey’s front lawn and Carol’s stepping out, all grins.

“Hey, baby,” She says, real and there and not converted to words through a device.

Rhodey looks at her dazzling smile, to her Ship, to the giant mud pit in his yard, then back to her smile, and he grows a grin of his own and says, “What the hell, Carol? You just here to ruin my yard?”

“Wow, Rhodey,” She says, taking a few strides toward him, “Good to see you, too.”

He wraps his arms around her, pulls her tight- real, tangible, more than just a coding and a transmission. He doesn’t say anything.

“So,” She says, “Wanna go to space with me, baby?”

He looks up, sees the clouds and the stars and the largeness of it all, then he looks down at her face and he can see her glowing, and he nods, “Yeah,” He says, ecstatic, “Show me the way, Space girl.”


End file.
